


You're my hope

by writingsofaspongecake



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: (Basically what I couldn't fit in there), (PS. this is related to my other fic She-Ra and the Legend of the Lost Princess), Adora is three, Angst with a Happy Ending, Catra is two years old in this, Catra's parents die (because I crave pain), How Adora and Catra first met, I'm Bad At Tagging, Mentioned Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra), Other, Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner's A+ Parenting, enjoy the sadness, fluff at the end, i'm sorry Catra, idk what else to add, it's sad, mainly how she ended up in the horde, so basically it's a one-shot about Catra's past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29244528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingsofaspongecake/pseuds/writingsofaspongecake
Summary: During a Horde raid conducted on her home town, a two-year-old Catra is found by a soldier and taken back to the Fright Zone. There she meets two people who will change her life forever, one for the worst, the other for the better.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	You're my hope

**Author's Note:**

> (⚠⚠Trigger Warning: This work discusses sensitive subjects such as Parental Loss and War, as well as vague allusions to Violence, Death, and Child Abuse.)
> 
> Okay, so this is a one-shot that I've been planning on writing for a while now. It focuses on Catra's past and the unfortunate circumstances that lead to her arrival at The Horde. It's an idea that has been swirling around in my mind for a while, like, we all know how Adora ended up with The Horde (The famous "Light-Hope yeets the child into another dimension" story). But no one has ever asked how Catra ended up there, so here I am to try and guess at an answer to your questions and mine.  
> The events of the fic are heavily based on that one scene from S1 Ep. 11 "Promise", the one where they promise each other to always stay together (you know, the Sad™ one), in part due to my HC that during their childhood, moments like these occurred several times.  
> Also, this story is part of the universe of another SPoP fanfic that I'm writting called "She-Ra and the Legend of the Lost Princess" (Which I'll link to in the ending notes, if you wanna check it out).
> 
> I really hope you enjoy and without further ado, let's get on with the story.

It’s a low, faint buzzing sound accompanied by clicks and clangs of metal. But it’s constantly there, following her ears wherever she goes. Wherever she’s taken. Everything looks and smells the same. Ugly shades of green and gray and black seem to flow endlessly, encircling her, drowning her. And she’s so small compared to everything and everyone around her. The walls seem to be painted with pipes of all shapes and sizes, hisses of steam protruding from their seams now and then, followed by the low screeches of rusting metal.

It’s like walking through a beast made of rust and metal and concrete, veiled by a thick cloud of sickly, acrid smoke. And Catra doesn’t understand where she is, or why, or how she is here. 

She doesn’t know anyone here. This ‘here’ doesn’t even feel real, like it was pulled from the depth of a haunting nightmare or a dystopian fever dream. 

Catra doesn’t understand her surroundings no matter how hard she studies them. Instead of the colorful ceiling of her bedroom or the dark navy blue of the night sky dotted with a moon or two, she only sees an endless dark, ugly, and tall concrete ceiling, stretching as far as her small mismatched eyes can see.

This isn’t home and Catra knows it. And she doesn’t like it. In fact, she doesn’t like it at all. 

And the arms that are holding her feel wrong, smell wrong. Those arms are too big, too strong, too rough, and devoid of any fur. Those arms are many shades lighter than any arms she’s ever seen, let alone was held by. But she’s too scared to say anything. The events of the night had stunned her into silence quite a while ago.

In her head, she tries to scramble to a reasoning, faulty as it may be, to explain what had just happened and how on Etheria she had ended up in such an awful place. 

She had been sleeping in her bed, lulled into drowsiness by the light, happy chime of the slowly twirling mobile above it and the dimmed lights of her room, her hand occupied by a small fluffy pillow, or perhaps a stuffed animal or toy. Then suddenly, there was a loud noise and she heard screaming. The lights in her room became intensely bright, and she had been carried away by someone, passed from an arm to the other, while the screaming continued somewhere outside. Suddenly, she’d heard terrifyingly loud bangs and explosions followed by a cacophony of agonizing sounds, distress like she’d never heard before. Fear had sat heavy in her stomach and she burrowed in the arms of whoever was holding her for safety.

A soothing, familiar voice had come to her ears then accompanied by trembling caresses up and down her wild mane of hair. She had known right then that she was being held by her mother. The sound of that voice was one she’d recognize between millions. She had caught a strangled, whispered conversation between who she recognized to be her parents, half of what they were saying not making the slightest sense to her. But that exchange had soon been cut short by loud banging on the door, the sound of wood breaking and an invasion of heavy footsteps. She’d heard a snarl, shouts and screams, saw faint images of scuffles as the burgeoning fight was taken outside. 

Suddenly, a strong and blunt pair of arms had tugged harshly at her. She’d shrieked and tried to squirm out of their hold, tiny claws bared and swiping blindly at whoever those arms were attached to.

She’d heard her mother shouting “ _Let go of her!_ ”, the strength of her voice carrying over Catra’s screams and shrieks.

Suddenly, she had found herself in familiar arms once again, although they hadn’t been her mother’s, but instead, someone else’s. She hadn’t had the time to see who was holding her, before she was being passed back to her mother, onto whom she clung for dear life, scared that she might be taken from her soft embrace again. 

With clear difficulty and a limp to her step, her mother had somehow found her way back inside the familiar main hallway of their home and had slunk against the wall, her body sliding to the floor in a tired huff.

“ _Mama..?_ ” she remembers asking, trying to understand what was wrong. Her mother was panting hard, every breath she was taking seemed painful. 

“ _It’s gonna be okay baby, it’s gonna be okay. We’re okay now…_ ” her mother had reassured, sounding anything but okay. Catra had then nuzzled into the embrace and began to purr, wondering if it would help in any way.

For a few fleeting moments, the world had been at peace. Catra was being held in the safest embrace the world could’ve ever offered her. Her mother’s fingers had been carding through her hair, as she whispered sweet nothings to her kitten, soothing her fears and calming Catra down. 

But then, in a cruel twist of fate, a projectile had come crashing into the roof of their house, sending a part of the structure plummeting to the ground, right where Catra and her mother had been huddled. 

In movements so swift Catra hadn’t even had the time to register them, her mother had swiveled on the spot, avoiding the bigger parts of the rubble that had begun to rain on them, shielding Catra with her own body. 

It had taken a moment for the cloud of dust and rubble to clear from the air, and Catra’s line of sight had been obstructed for several moments. Her ears had been plagued by a loud ringing, but through it she could hear her mother’s strangled cries of pain. Once the air had cleared, she’d seen that more than half of her mother’s body had been buried under the rubble. The kitten, on the other hand, had not a scab on her face.

Catra remembered how her mother had then cupped the kitten’s face with her free hand and moved her eyes away from the dismal sight.

She remembered how, in a shaking voice her mother had told her where to go and what to do. Then, with considerable effort, she had removed her headpiece, a crimson pointed crown that usually framed her face, the one piece of her mother’s outfit that Catra had never seen her without, and gave it to her, saying: “ _I’ll always be with you Catra. Papa and I, we love you so much baby… so much… Never forget that._ ” 

Her mother had then kissed her forehead and cheeks several times, before telling her to get out of the destroyed structure without looking back, without looking at anyone, or anything.

Catra remembers wondering why her mother hadn’t come with her, thinking that maybe she was going to follow her eventually. She remembers making her way to the entrance of the house, only to find that that there was no more entrance, only giant chunks of ceiling and broken bricks and wood posts and dust. She remembers climbing halfway up the humongous pile with relative difficulty, her mother’s headpiece tucked under her arm as she made her ascent. She remembers how her mother’s strained, low grunts and moans of pain had slowly become less and less prominent until they eventually stopped and a deathly silence took their place.

She remembers being picked up halfway through her climb by a woman in armor.

She remembers kicking and screaming a little, only to be reassured that everything was gonna be okay. The woman had sounded friendly enough, though Catra still hadn’t liked her one bit. She remembers hissing and scratching the woman when she had tried to take the headpiece away, mistaking it for a piece of debris the kitten collected on the battlefield.

She remembers now, being taken away on a strange machine, crying for her mother, only to be told by that same woman that had picked her up that crying was no use. That ‘Mama couldn’t hear you now’. It had been as though a knife had stabbed the two-year-old kitten in the heart. Where was her mother? Hadn’t she just been sitting in her arms, purring to make her feel better? Where was she now? Where had she gone? 

Catra clearly remembers spotting an empty box on the machine she had been carried into. She clearly remembers scurrying off to that cardboard box, hiding and refusing to come out no matter what, waiting, hoping…

Upon arrival to this horrible, dark place, Catra had been separated from her hideout by another, much bigger, much stronger soldier and was now being taken somewhere. 

Throughout the entire ordeal, Catra had held onto her mother’s headpiece ferociously. Anyone who’d tried to take it from her had received a fresh set of claw marks wherever the kitten’s flailing arms had been able to reach. 

And now, it sits huddled safely against her chest, probably the last piece she had from her mother and her home. 

Catra closes her eyes. She can’t see more of this horrible place. She wonders if it’s all just another bad dream and she would be waking up from it soon, in her parents’ arms back home. She holds on to this last hope screwing her eyes tightly shut as the soldier carrying her makes a sharp turn to the left.

A strange cold gust of air suddenly traverses their surroundings, sending a shiver down Catra’s back, causing her fur to rise and her tail to fuzz up. 

She opens her eyes and studies her surroundings. She’s still in that horrible place, but the soldier now stands still, and she can smell his unease through the thick uniform covering his body. 

Catra looks around again, only for her eyes to spot the source of that strange gust, and for a moment she recoils away at the sight, finding the brute strength of the arms carrying her a much safer alternative to… whatever that creature is.

It’s a tall creature, covered in deep shades of crimson and black. Instead of walking, it floats, ominous and silent as a ghost, followed by a shroud of darkness. Its head is covered in thick long strands of black hair that seem to flow in an uninterrupted floatation, despite the absence of any winds to carry them.

In all aspects, it looks like a woman is hiding behind all those attributes. And yet, for as womanly as she appears, she reeks of darkness and evil, her face all but hidden behind an indecipherable mask of which only the dead, blank, pupil-less white eyes seem to move. How? Catra has no idea.

“Commander Shadow Weaver,” the soldier holding Catra salutes in a solemn, yet slightly quivering voice, as though he too is scared.

Shadow Weaver… _that name suits her well_ , Catra thinks. She definitely seems like an animated weave of dark shadows standing (or better yet, floating) in front of them. 

The woman looks over at Catra, examining the kitten intently, her expression ever so neutral aside from her narrow, scrutinizing eyes. Catra holds her stare frightfully, withholding the urge to skitter away, knowing that the arms that wrapped around her would only block her escape. Suddenly, her ears flick towards a strange noise, coming from far behind the woman, probably even the other room. Catra’s curiosity is peeked for a moment, but she doesn’t give in to the urge of looking, her eyes still glued on the figure of the dark woman. 

“What is your name, child?” the woman asks, in a snaky slithering voice that seems to drip from her unseen lips like silky black venom.

The kitten hesitates for a moment, before breaking under the intense stare. Her eyes dart to the floor as she shyly answers “C-Catra…” 

The woman raises a sharp, cruel hand and grabs her face in a tight hold. Catra flinches, but the hold on her face is hard, unrelenting.

“You will look at me when I speak to you,” the woman snarls, her hair puffing out, shrouding them both in darkness for a few seconds, before receding again. Around her, Catra can feel the soldier’s arms shaking. And, least surprising of all, Catra is shaking as well, her tail fuzzed-up beyond measure. 

Seeing the kitten’s fear, the woman calms again, her hold on Catra’s face becoming an examining one, as she shifts her face from left to right.

“How old are you, Catra?” the woman asks, surveying the kitten’s tiny body.

Behind her, there’s another noise, a strange commotion. Catra’s ears flick towards it again, and this time, she looks over for a moment, catching the slightest glimpse of something light, blonde even, before her attention is snapped back towards the cruel woman.

“I asked you a question!” Shadow Weaver chastises. 

“I-I’m two,” Catra answers, this time with some defiance to her. 

The woman hums in disapproval of the kitten’s tone.

“Clearly, there is work to do. You’ll need to become more respectful of your superiors. But for now, I guess some sacrifices must be made on our end,” the woman explains, and Catra barely understands half of what she’s saying.

Suddenly her eyes land on the headpiece Catra had been holding onto and the kitten’s arms loop around it protectively, her brows knitting into a frown above her blue and gold eyes.

Seemingly at the peak of her disinterest, probably dismissing the accessory as a piece of shrapnel picked up on the battlefield, the woman scoffs lightly, adding a soft “pathetic” along the way.

“What shall we do of her, Commander?” the soldier asks. 

Before Shadow Weaver can answer, however, a small voice rises from behind her, asking the commander what was going on, and Catra is sure that she’s never heard anything sweeter. The light voice comes in all forms of stark contrast to their surroundings, and Catra swivels her head, craning her neck as far as she could to try and determine the source of that sweet sound.

Her view is largely blocked by Shadow Weaver’s looming figure, as the woman turns to the source of that voice, most likely another child judging by the pitch. The commander leans down a little, her entire demeanor changing.

“This is nothing for you to worry about,” Shadow Weaver addresses the child in a sickly sweet and calm manner, and all kinds of different from the way she had just been addressing Catra. “Run along now. Maybe go watch the elder cadets spar? I know you like that.”

To Catra, it sounds like a completely different person was now talking. Not the severe commander, but someone that almost sounded… motherly. 

Almost.

And somehow, for an unknown reason, Catra is repulsed by this. 

She’s still trying to get a look at whoever is talking to Shadow Weaver when she hears her loveable, tiny voice again say “Yes, Shadow Weaver.”

And before Catra can get a good look, the girl is already hurrying away, and Shadow Weaver faces back towards the kitten, her severity completely restored.

“Leave her to me, soldier. I’ll take care of everything. You’re dismissed,” the commander declares, and to Catra’s dismay, the soldier sets her down, salutes one last time and leaves.

She’s left at the woman’s mercy for the next hour or less, as she explains everything to the kitten, sparing no time for questions or reassurances.

Catra stays mostly silent throughout the entire exchange, letting the woman lead the one sided discussion, only speaking when she's asked to. 

  


* * *

Once Shadow Weaver is finished, she leaves Catra to her own in what was referred to as ‘the bunk room’. She’s assigned her a bed and instructed her about her whereabouts and her new allegiance. 

Catra was now an orphaned cadet, living under the jurisdiction of The Horde. 

Her entire life, she would have to be devoted to this awful place, or she would be thrown out, and would have nowhere to go (Shadow Weaver had made that point pretty clear). She would from now on have to learn to obey and follow orders and directions, as well as learn how to be a proper and useful addition to the Horde’s ranks, lest she is disposed of.

Catra’s entire future, as the woman had said, would now be shaped by the place where she had begrudgingly found herself. And whether she liked it, or not, Catra would have to adapt quickly, or she would be cast out. 

Waiting upon anyone to come for her would now be a useless waste of time, the woman had said. Her parents were a part of the past now. A past she was never going to return to. Instead, Shadow Weaver recommended she’d look towards the future and focus on becoming a proper trainee, whatever that meant. 

And finally, Shadow Weaver had warned her that any step out of line, any disobedience, any form of rebellion whatsoever would result in very bad consequences, and that she would have no one but herself to blame in the end.

Shadow Weaver has since then left, turning her back to the tiny kitten, leaving her to her thoughts.

And the kitten is left alone, afraid, and heartbroken. 

_They’re part of a past you will never return to…_

Catra cannot bear the thought of never seeing her parents again. Why were they not coming back for her? Hadn’t her mother told her that they loved her? Why hadn’t they yet saved her from this awful place like they’d usually save her from climbing too high atop a counter or a tree? 

Catra’s also tired, hungry, and thirsty. She’s covered in dust and small scratches and scabs here and there, and her body is aching from lack of rest. She has no idea how long she’s gone without sleep.

But mainly, she feels horrible. Hopeless. There were no colors here. No songs. No happiness. No mom to sing her to sleep or bandage her wounds when she got hurt. No dad to tell her stories and scoop her up in his big warm arms in the morning. It’s like the sun itself doesn’t exist here.

The little kitten finds her way to the nearest bunk and burrows under its covers, scurrying over to the corner of the bed and wedging herself tightly against the metal headboard, not even caring that it wasn’t the bunk she was assigned. The blanket is rough and itchy, yet it has this weirdly pleasant smell to it. It smells like something nice… someone nice. Catra finds her solace in it. She huddles beneath the blanket, hogging it around her leaving nothing but her tail and the tips of her ears peeking out. She holds the headpiece close to her heart and remembers the last thing her mother had said to her.

_Papa and I, we love you so much baby… so much… Never forget that…_

Wet stains begin to form on the mattress as silent, burning tears slide across the kitten’s dusty face before turning into quiet, tiny sobs, her entire body shaking with each fresh cry.

Catra doesn’t know for how long she remains there, huddled under those covers, crying her eyes out. But eventually, she hears footsteps. Not loud and heavy like those of the other soldiers, but small and light, and hesitant, as though they were those of someone who just learned how to walk.

The steps are barely perceivable, but Catra can hear them coming closer. She quietens.

The smell hits her first. It’s the same as the one on the blanket, but it’s stronger, more present. It’s like safety and assurance. It’s pleasant in a strange way.

Then, she hears it. That same tiny, sweet voice from earlier. But now, it’s slightly hesitant, nervous, maybe even a little scared… and somehow even more loveable than before…

“H-hello?” the voice asks hesitantly. Catra doesn’t move, but her tail sways gently from side to side and her ears flick at the sound when it comes again.

“I… I think you’re on my bed,” the voice says. It’s slightly more assured this time, but it’s still a little jumpy, and there may be a tinge of curiosity to it as well. 

Catra stays still as a rock, though her waving tail is a dead giveaway. Suddenly, the covers are hesitantly peeled back a little, revealing a sliver of the kitten’s tear-stained face, and Catra’s eyes go wide.

In front of her sits a little girl, probably no older than three, tiny and somewhat different. Catra knows about normal humans, but never before had she seen one up close. She had never imagined they could be so beautiful. The girl’s skin is fair and her features are soft. Smooth and silky locks of shiny blonde hair sit in a neat, small ponytail atop her head. And her eyes shine with a pearly blue shade. 

Catra stares the girl up and down several times. It’s like looking at a tiny angel. The kitten wonders for a moment how an awful place such as The Horde could possibly house such a beautiful creature.

Catra isn’t the only one staring of course.

The girl looks at her with strange awe in her eyes at the little she can see. Her line of sight locks directly on Catra’s eyes, and Catra knows exactly what the girl is so mesmerized by: the mismatch of her eye colors.

Suddenly the girl reaches out her hand, trying to move the blanket further back. Catra’s first instinct is to spit and hiss at her. 

The little blonde flinches and backs down, startled at the sudden outburst. She doesn’t seem scared though, only a little nervous.

Catra settles as well. She hadn’t meant to scare her, but the kitten had been scared herself. She couldn't be blamed for giving in to instinct, right?

Slowly, in vigilant movements, without taking her eyes off the girl, Catra sits up, the blanket drooping and gathering on her shoulders. She sniffs and rubs at her puffy eyes.

Immediately, there’s a visible change in the blonde’s demeanor as she gets her first good look at Catra. Unbreakable interest floods the girl’s face for the skip of a heartbeat. And then it’s gone, replaced by something else when she gauge’s Catra’s emotions. Although her eyes fail to hide her concern, a small smile creeps up her face. It’s reassuring in a way Catra didn’t know was possible. In a way she didn’t know she oh-so-desperately needed.

“Hey,” the blonde begins, moving the tiniest bit towards Catra. “It’s okay, don’t be sad. You’re safe here.”

Catra doesn’t say anything, doesn’t react at the reassurance, simply eyes the girl expectantly, wondering what would come from her next. 

“My name is Adora,” the girl says, her smile widening slightly. “What’s your name?”

Adora.

 _Adora_. 

Catra decides that she likes the name. In fact, she likes it a lot. It suits the blonde very well. 

“I-I’m Catra,” the kitten speaks for the first time, her voice a little raspy and squeaky due to the dryness of her throat. She gulps down the thick lump left from her tears. 

Adora’s smile grows brighter at the revelation, and Catra notices a twinkle in her eyes. It’s pretty. Like tiny little droplets of glitter.

The kitten’s nerves ease. Adora is different, she can tell. She’s the only smooth, shiny surface in this vast ocean of dark, rough edges and jagged spikes.

Catra’s features burgeon into a shy smile. Adora beams at her, looking as bright as a sunny day, and moves a little closer, though still allowing the kitten her own space.

“Your eyes are very pretty,” the little blonde declares, taking the kitten slightly aback. The last thing Catra had expected to get from anyone in this place was a compliment. Red rises in her cheeks and her eyes shy away from Adora, dropping to the floor instead.

“T-thanks…” the kitten stammers and looks up again. Adora is still smiling, and Catra thinks it’s beautiful. She rubs again at her dampened eyes and moves slightly to the side, inviting Adora to sit next to her in a silent request.

Almost instantly, the little blonde is next to her.

“I’m… sorry I hissed at you…” Catra continues hesitantly.

“It’s okay,” Adora declares. “You’re new here, right?”

Catra nods slowly, her expression going dark at the assertion. She bites back to urge to cry again, but a new lump stubbornly wedges itself in her throat once again, and a stray tear courses down her cheek. She quickly and furiously rubs it away, embarrassed at showing weakness in front of the other girl.

But Adora has already seen the little tear, and she moves closer to the kitten, wrapping a gentle hand around her shoulders. And it feels so good that Catra almost melts into tears again.

“Hey, don’t cry, it’s okay,” the blonde assures again. “It’s not so bad here.”

“It’s scary,” the kitten replies, and to Adora’s surprise, leans in and places her head on the blonde’s tiny shoulder. The embrace feels so safe. So warm. In a world of darkness and smoke and rust, this is the only ray of sunshine, the only little spring bloom. 

“Not so scary…” Adora soothes. “You just need to get used to it, that’s all. I’ll help you if you want.”

And Catra realizes that she had been somewhat mistaken. This place - The Fright Zone – wasn’t completely devoid of hope after all. It wasn’t completely black and white. A little sliver of color had still found its way in, seeping through the smallest of cracks. The quiet wasn’t quite as deafening as Catra had thought it to be. A small song still played in its wake.

Yes. There was a small, tiny bit of happiness here. A small bit that has her wrapped up and safe. That is reassuring her that it’s gonna be okay. Whose voice, as small as it is, holds more strength and safety than Catra could ever fathom.

And Catra nuzzles closer into the blonde’s arms. Her wild hair tickles her neck and she hears her giggle for the first time, and Catra thinks it’s beautiful. It’s cute. It’s home. 

The beginning of a purr rumbles in Catra’s chest and she nuzzles even further into the blonde’s hold. She feels her small arms tighten their hold a bit.

Adora giggles again.

“Do uh… Do you wanna be friends?” she then asks after a beat of silence, her voice tinged with a hint of shyness.

And just like that, that wound in Catra begins mending.

“Yes,” the kitten quickly agrees. “We’ll be best friends!” she then declares, looking up at Adora, joy, and excitement giving Catra’s voice a newfound force. 

Adora’s smile doesn’t falter as her tiny hand pulls Catra into an impromptu hug, which the kitten quickly reciprocates, almost melts into. Tears and shaky breaths quickly become a thing of the past as she burrows even deeper into the safety of those tiny arms. 

And now, in this hold, nothing matters anymore. Because this hold has a sense of familiarity for Catra. Like it’s both her parents are simultaneously hugging her through that small little blonde girl that she just met. And although her parents might be far now, maybe Catra isn’t as alone as she previously thought. 

Yes, maybe there is hope. 

And this hope is right here, between her arms, hugging her so gently, so sweetly. 

This hope is something she decides she can’t go without anymore.

This hope is something she never wants to leave.

This hope is something she’s not letting go. Not now. Not ever.

**Author's Note:**

> (AAAHHH SORRY CATRA💔💔😫😫)
> 
> So here we are. I really hope you guys liked the story. As always feel free to leave Kudos or a nice comment and I hope to see you next time.  
> Have a good one.
> 
> Link for "She-Ra and the Legend of the Lost Princess":  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/28838670/chapters/70737264


End file.
